Search and Destroy
by itakethewords
Summary: Ariadne's missing and no one seems to know anything about her whereabouts. Arthur only has a thin line of clues to follow that could lead him to her or to whoever is behind her disappearance.
1. Occam's Razor

_**Author's Note**: It's official; I'm insane. I have no time or business writing more fics for Inception right now. A lot of you have probably read my other ones (thank you if you have) and you might have noticed how I was cranking them out and suddenly stopped. RL is a cruel mistress sometimes. I've had a family death, work, many out of town trips, and top top it off, its NaNoWriMo time and I leave for the UK in just over three weeks._

_I am a glutton for punishment. Clearly._

_But this thing has stewed in my brain for almost a week now and I want to get it out. It is a multichapter fic. I don't know how long it will be right now. I can say it won't be an epic saga. But it won't be just a few small chapters either. It sounds fluffy now, but I wholly believe I can't really do fluff properly, so naturally the story will get dark and weird and all that jazz I normally do._

_So, without further ado, please enjoy!_

_**Disclaimer**: I don't own Inception. Just my own plot and any original characters. _

* * *

At twenty-nine, Ariadne thought she would be in a steady relationship and have a successful career. Maybe even married, if the right guy turned up. And now, as she found herself at that self-chosen number, she realized she was partially there with her aspirations.

She had graduated from university in the top three of her class and finished a lucrative apprenticeship two years before that developed into a partnership with a high-class architect firm that worked out of Paris and Chicago. She had a small home in a suburb of the Second City and a open, comfortable apartment in the French city.

And occasionally, she took the odd job as Architect and hooked up to a PASIV with other Extractors and Point Men. But she never went into the dream when they had the Mark.

Not that she ever expected to go in again. The one-time blackmail of Cobb had produced a one-time exception.

She never worked with Cobb again. No one did. He'd somehow successfully managed to leave the game in one piece. Everyone left him to pick up the remaining pieces of his shattered life, letting him glue it back together piece by piece. Besides providing help to the Point Men of her jobs, she rarely had contact with Yusuf, who stuck solely to his home in Mombasa and shipped his chemicals out or sent them with trusted messengers. Eames popped up on the rare occasion when he was in Paris, bringing tales of his rambunctious times off the dreamscape clock. He would take her out for lunch, or dinner, or whatever meal he fancied to show up at her door for.

These random visits were not wholly appreciated by Arthur.

Especially as Eames had a knack for showing up just as Ariadne and Arthur were tangled in compromising positions unfit for guests' eyes.

Arthur, in Ariadne's eyes, was a completely different story.

After walking away from each other and the others in LAX, they had no contact for nearly nine months, only hearing about his location once or twice from other Extractors who complained they'd looked into booking him but he was "busy in Italy" or "his hands were tied up in Winnipeg." When she ran into him, she discovered they were co-workers once more with Amy, a female Extractor who needed their help with some arms dealers south of the border. After a close call as the dream crumbled, Amy split from them, after rushing through payment instructions and left them to leave the civil war zone on their own. When they both reached San Angelo, they collapsed in a Holiday Inn and slept for nearly nineteen hours.

Ariadne had been the first to wake up, which surprised her. She showered and changed with the clothes she'd brought in a small bag she'd nearly forgotten at the dream site. Clean, she left the room and Arthur for food and to scout. Upon her return, she was faced with a clean, yet furious Arthur.

"Do not just leave like that! I thought Ortega found us, Ariadne." Arthur tugged at his damp hair. "What am I supposed to do if they'd found us and taken you?"

She gave him a quizzical look. "Then you keep going, like always. What's wrong, Arthur?" Setting down the pizza and sodas she'd picked up from across the street, she watched him pace his way to her.

Roughly, but still with gentlemanly careful hands, Arthur tugged her to him. "You don't understand yet?" He smashed his lips against hers, stopping any attempt from her to respond. Instead, he eagerly bruised her lips with his own. Ariadne reciprocated, still slightly confused and dizzied up by the uncharacteristic whirlwind the Point Man was presenting her with. Eagerly, she dug her hands into his hair and held him close, smiling into the kiss as she felt his body react to her acceptance.

After clumsily undressing and tangled limbs, Ariadne found herself in a semblance of a relationship with Arthur almost a year after meeting him. And even at the age of twenty-five, knew she was content with whatever it was.

But after that insane trip to Mexico, they'd rarely worked together in the four years since. Just two other times. Not that she took many jobs in the dreamscape anyway. Maybe just a handful a year. Whereas Arthur was so far deep in the game, she doubted he would ever leave it. The last time she counted his jobs in a time span, he'd done twenty-two small jobs in five months. The bigger ones he usually did one at a time and took several months doing; there was never a real way to average out the jobs, seeing as they were unusual and unique as they came along.

After each job they did, separate or together, they came together. Her place or his, wherever they happened to be (he had a better knack of finding her first. It was his job, after all,) and their emotions poured out in a clash of tongues and teeth and breathy moans and sweat and tears.

And now Ariadne stood in the doorway of her younger brother's home in Wisconsin, watching her parents and everyone else in the room gathered around the large pink bassinet that held her new niece. And it made her realize that she was getting older. And that there would be no escaping her mother's eye and not-so-subtle hints to settle down. And Ariadne had no interest in children and absolutely no interest in telling them that she was in some sort of fuck-when-you're-here-yet-exclusive-to-only-you relationship with a conman. She didn't see that sliding over well; in fact, she saw it going over much, much worse than the blowout from her move to Paris a decade before had been.

Despite her lack of wanting children and a boring settled down life, Ariadne knew that the talk she would soon have with her whip-smart mother was somewhat full of truths. While she believed in whatever stability was in her 'commitment' with Arthur, she wanted something...more.

Even though she was the most successful person from her family, (certainly the most wealthy in generations), they all looked at her with lacking. She was lacking the man and the ring and the 2.5 kids at her hips.

Ariadne was always a fan of compromise. Especially when she knew it was what she wanted as well.

And Ariadne knew she wanted confirmation.

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_ **A/N**: Reviews are what tell me people are reading and tell me you all want more. You want proof of my stickler review ways, see the A/Ns of my other stories, lol. Thanks for reading! _


	2. Escape

_**Author's Note**: Chapter two up! Thanks for the nice reviews and the interest in my new fic! Those who alerted me and left reviews, you guys are the ones who let me know to keep going! You and the other readers are awesome!_  
_I've decided to make this story my NaNoWriMo project so you'll have updates almost daily. Well, that's how it should go, anyway._

_So please enjoy!_

_**Disclaimer**: I only own my plots and characters. Not Inception or anything else._

* * *

Arthur was in Chicago after a particularly rough flight from Rio. Turbulence, unpleasant passengers with him in first class, and incompetent attendants were the least of his worries at the moment, though.

He'd come to Ariadne's house in Logan's Square, hoping she was there for her brother's gathering, but found the place empty and seemingly untouched for weeks. This didn't raise the alarms in his head. He may have stayed with her family near the Illinois/Wisconsin border, he may have had the date wrong. For all he knew, it had been a week prior and she was back in her apartment in Paris, working on the renovations for the national library.

Instead, he used her bathroom and washed his clothes, as he always did when she was usually there and noticed he was in desperate need.

The small seed of worry in his mind pushed at him as he did these mundane chores. As he ate. As he repacked and booked the first flight out of O'Hare to Paris. And just before he was supposed to board his plane, he broke down and called her.

First her apartment, which went to her answering machine. This didn't surprise him as she was forever losing the handset, thus letting it go dead for days at a time. Her cell phone went right to voicemail, which did surprise him. Ariadne always had it on for work and, unless totally tied up or in a dead sleep, would trip her way to the device.

Arthur cursed Ariadne's reluctance to let him meet her family. She kept the two parts of her life exceptionally separate, stating she didn't need things messy. He wished he had her brother's number; even if it meant waking his newborn baby. Ariadne's safety was seemingly on the line.

As he finally settled into his seat for the long flight, Arthur forced himself to remain calm. Panicking did nothing and Ariadne always had a habit of drawing out ever baser emotion in him. There was absolutely nothing he could do thousands of feet in the air and he didn't need a reason for the air marshal to arrest him.

Instead, he settled in and brooded, staring at the seat in front of him.

x-x-x

Her apartment in Paris was empty. The assistant at the office said she was taking a small leave of absence. And no Extractor could claim that they were working with her currently. His questions and footwork were leading him nowhere, which caused Arthur to sit outside the Arc on a bench, waiting for Eames. A last resort.

The last time Arthur had seen the Brit, it was as he stumbled for his gun, wrapped in a sheet as Ariadne yelled at the cackling man. Ariadne managed to calm him enough to stop him from shooting their friend and told Eames to come back another time. A month ago.

"Glad to see you're fully clothed this time, Arthur. Was quite a shock for my eyes." Eames' voice, light and booming, caught Arthur's attention, causing him to sigh and roll his eyes. Turning, he responded to the Forger's light tease.

"As much as your jokes and embarrassing quips seem funny, Eames, I only called you for a serious reason. Not because I needed to give my eye sockets exercise," he snapped.

Eames studied Arthur's face for a moment before sitting next to the man. "We haven't been getting on too bad lately. So what's the matter?"

Silence, except from the locals milling around the monument and tourists snapping pictures and talking loud in their native languages. A little Asian boy stared at the men a moment before turning to his siblings who fought over a bag of sweets.

"Have you heard from Ariadne lately?"

"What's the matter? She get upset at you and is ignoring your calls?" Eames chuckled to himself.

Arthur only glared. "Her homes are empty and she's taken a leave from work. I don't want to look too deep in case I'm spoiling some sort of surprise she's cooking up. And I don't want to overreact. But I'm worried. Has she said anything to you?"

"Like what? That she's running away or something? She's not the type to run from problems, Arthur..."

Arthur frowned, but he wasn't so preoccupied that he didn't notice how Eames' voice trailed and held something guarded. Nor was he blind to the minuscule, smug grin the man was baiting him with.

"Eames..."

"Yes, my friend?"

"What do you know?"

Eames was silent a moment before answering. "You should go take a visit to San Angelo, Arthur." He clapped him on the back and stood. "I hope you find what you should be looking for. And not just the Architect. Give me a call if you need any help."

Arthur watched Eames walk away, frowning.

"San Angelo...Texas?" he muttered to himself. "I should have just did a trace on her." Rubbing at his eyes, he felt for his phone and called the airline for the next flight to Austin or Dallas.

Finishing his call, the Point Man stood and surveyed his surroundings. Since he'd gotten to the public space, the crowd had changed. Different families, couples, artists populating the area. The sun had begun to set, which had thinned out the crowds considerably. Ignoring his stomach, Arthur made to walk back to his own apartment to pack.

The fact that Eames offered up some sort of clue, or help, or whatever the city name had been calmed his riotous, worried thoughts slightly. The criminal in him was thinking three steps ahead in three separate directions; the man in him wanted to be everywhere at once, his skin crawling with possibilities of what was happening.

x-x-x

"Sweetheart, is this a good idea?"

"Yes. He'll be fine. He's Arthur, for god's sake. He'll figure it out."

Eames chuckled. "I don't know. He seemed pretty darn clueless when we chatted. He's lucky I was in the area to talk with Daniels."

Ariadne smiled to herself. "Give him time, Jack. It's only day one."

"That's Jackson to you, miss. And I don't know if you're insane or brilliant. Keep me updated, won't you?"

"Of course. Get's some rest. I'll chat with you soon, maybe."

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_** A/N**: Please tell me your thoughts and just ramble about your day if you want in a review! They make me want to post more! Thanks for reading! _


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